


Mama Told Me Not to Come

by Zandra_Court



Series: Agent Hotpants Series [5]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28498368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zandra_Court/pseuds/Zandra_Court
Summary: Once again Special Agent Carlson and the FBI need Starsky and Hutch to help stop a serial killer. But when the op goes very wrong, they face a devastating circumstance that may well be the end of everything they have built together.
Relationships: Ken Hutchinson/David Starsky, Ken Hutchinson/David Starsky/Special Agent Carlson, Ken Hutchinson/Special Agent Carlson
Series: Agent Hotpants Series [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/16968
Comments: 7
Kudos: 4





	Mama Told Me Not to Come

**Author's Note:**

> This is story is listed as part 5, but actually takes place just a few weeks after part 3 because I started writing it 9 years ago, before I wrote part 4. You can think of parts 4 and 5 as a sort of “choose your own adventure” story, with each chapter leading somewhere different.

“I hate full moons.” Jocelyn Rutgers wasn’t superstitious by nature, but every ER nurse who’d ever worked more than six months on night shift believed in the power of the moon.

“It’s been crazy tonight,“ agreed Dr. Beth Allen, who was pausing by the nurses station for a handful of M&M’s that they kept in a bowl there. Coffee and sugar were sometimes the only way to get through the night.

“Did you talk to Mr. Bad-Mushroom-Trip in number three? He came in babbling about how women were shooting darts out of their boobs,” the heavy-set nurse asked.

“Yeah. I was tempted to draw up a target and go hang it on his chest.” Dr. Allen joked. “His bad luck that the only man on this shift is Gregg.” She was referring to the handsome security guard. He was way too young for her though. She knew he was only working security until he was accepted to the police academy. Her thoughts seemed to draw him because at that moment he burst through the outside doors.

“Hey Doc! We got another one!”

 _Shit._ That made the third one in two weeks. Dr. Allen ran, hoping that this one wasn’t so far gone that they wouldn’t be able to resuscitate her. 

Running out to the sidewalk outside the ER doors, she could tell this one wasn’t apt to make it, if she wasn’t already dead yet. The heavily made up girl couldn’t have been more than 17. She had bottle-blonde hair, wore a tight mini-dress that was scrunched up to reveal she didn’t have any panties on, and three-inch stilettos. The deep scarlet around her nose betrayed how she’d spent her evening and the gray-blue color of her lips told Dr. Allen what she was going to feel when she checked for a pulse: nothing.

“Get me a crash cart!” 

Joceyln ran back in to push the code button and grab a gurney. Once they had the girl on it, Dr. Beth started CPR as they wheeled her back inside. The nurse cut off the dress and her bra so they could attach the sensors that told the monitor if her heart was beating.

“Clear!” Dr. Allen shouted as she rubbed the lubricant on the pads and touched them to the girl’s body, one high on her sternum and the other low on her left side. The lifeless body shook when the electrical current hit. Looking at the screen, the line flattened back out. Adjusting the dials, she tried again. Nothing. “One more time” she whispered to herself. “C’mon honey, no high’s worth dying for.” 

“Clear!” This time the body jolted hard from the amount of current coursing through. The line on the screen bounced and seemed to beat for the barest of a second before flatlining once more.

Jocelyn resumed CPR, sweat pilling on her forehead when Dr. Allen put her hand on her arms, quelling her movements. “That’s it Joyce. I’m calling time of death at 0247, 28 August 1984. Wish I had a name to go with that.” Looking down at the young girl, she was taken aback by how pretty she probably used to be, before she lived her life up her nose. That’s when she saw the small tattoo under her right arm. “Foxfire Studios 4ever”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did you have this much crap when you moved to DC or is this all four years worth of living the Quantico life?” Starsky asked, carrying two large banker’s boxes up a flight of stairs that didn’t seem steep the first 15 times he went up them. His left arm was still stiff from being shot eight weeks ago, but the manual labor felt good.

“Actually, I had it all back then. But when the Bureau moves you out, they pay for some hot-bodies to move your stuff for you. When it’s your idea, you’re on your own.” Special Agent Carlson was hauling in a box that had “Kitchen” written on the side.

As they walked into the living room area, Hutch was putting plants near windows. “These beauties are starved for light, G-man. Why didn’t you drive them in your car?”

Starsky smiled at the Fed in amusement over how concerned his partner could get about overgrown salad and asked, “These go in your bedroom?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” Turning back to Hutch, Carlson said, “Well, they are very happy to have you caring for them Ken-doll.”

“They aren’t talking to you. They saw how you and Starsk looked at each other just now.” Hutch replied a bit haughtily as he poured water into one of the pots from a rinsed-out beer bottle. 

G-man chuckled. “And I’m sure your concern over my plants has nothing to do with making your pal and I do all the trips up and down the stairs.”

Hutch gave him a withering look, “I have a bad back.”

Walking back into the room, Starsky said, “Your back seemed fine when you wanted to try some kind of Senate of the Hippo yoga thing two days ago.”

“Congress of the Cow,” Hutch corrected.

“AHHHH!” Carlson held his hands up, “I don’t want to know.” Grabbing Starsky’s arm, he pulled saying, “More boxes, now, let’s go!”

As they walked back downstairs, Starsk asked, “What made you decide come to the San Francisco office? I thought you loved teaching at the academy.”

“I did. But I wanted to live somewhere that could afford me some freedom, even if only while off-duty. I didn’t want to go back to being a field agent, so when the Assistant Director’s job opened, I jumped at it.”

“Hutch’s glad you’re back on the West Coast, that’s for sure.”

“It’s still a seven hour drive, so it’s not like you’ll have to put up with me that often.”

“I don’t mind ya that much Agent Hotpants. I just think we’re too much alike to get along real well, ya get me?”

“That nickname’s just never gonna die huh.”

“Don’t look that way.”

“I see. Well, then I think it’s time I work on one for you.”

“One what?” Starsky had climbed up onto a table to pull some boxes that had been stacked high at the back of the moving van.

“A nickname. I need to come up with one.”

“Hutch says you call me ‘Strong and Silent’.”

“I’ve referred to you that way, but that’s not a nickname. No, this is going to take some real thinking Sergeant.”

“Do your worst Fed. I’ve been called so many things in my life, there’s nothing you could come up with that I ain’t been called before.”

“With all due respect Sergeant, I’m older and wiser than you. You’d be smart not to underestimate me.”

“Whatever you say, HP.”

“HP?”

Starsky gave him a snide look, “Hot. Pants. Older and smarter my ass.” He pushed two boxes on the older man. “Here ya go gramps.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two partners had taken off early the next morning to head back to Bay City, deciding to take Highway 33 instead of the Five. Took longer, but it was a beautiful, early-September day and Starsky preferred the feel of the twists and turns of the highway over the straight monotony of the interstate.

“I imagine we’re gonna get pretty familiar with this road now.” Hutch said, though it seemed like he was just talking to air. 

With the window rolled down, Starsk loved to watch his best friend's blond hair bounce around. Now that Hutch was a Lieutenant, he kept it shorter, but not so short that Starsky's fingers couldn’t run through it. He also loved how it lightened to spun gold by the end of summer.

“It’d be easier for him to make the trip down to us, Blondie. He doesn’t have to pull shift rotation the way we do. I know you’re happy to have him back here, but ‘Frisco’s still a long haul from Bay City.”

“You saying you don’t want him around?”

“Not at all. I mean, yeah, you’ve always had some kinda sweet spot for him, but he’s a good guy and a good friend. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up that we’re gonna have all this time to hang out like we do with, say, Mer or Huggy.”

“As long it’s more than once a year, I’m fine. I mean, he was just out here last month. Do you think he knew then he was going to transfer?”

Starsky got quiet. He hadn’t thought about that. Agent Hotpants must have known. Which means he’d confessed to loving Hutch knowing that he’d be moving back to California in a matter of weeks. The ugly viper of jealousy started to coil in his belly and he focused on the road, trying to put it to rest.

“Starsk?”

“What?” He replied in a low, dark tone. He really didn’t want to talk right now. Hutch’d see right through him and given the fights his jealousy had caused recently, he wasn’t anxious to go down that path again.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t have an answer I guess.” he lied. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re evading me and hoping I won’t notice.”

Starsky looked over at him and held Hutch’s blue eyes for a moment. He should have known better.

Sighing, he said, “I think there is no way he didn’t know and that he transferred to be closer to you, even before he told you...what he did.”

“I think so too.” Hutch looked back out the window and they drove on for the next few miles with only the noise of wind and a Three Dog Night cassette filling the air.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Captain Dobey?” Shirley poked her head into the large man’s office.

“Yes, Shirley, what is it?” he asked, not looking up from the paperwork on his desk.

“There’s a man from the FBI who would like to talk to you. He didn’t make an appointment, but said it was important.”

Dobey sighed. He’d asked Shirley to hold calls and keep his detectives at bay so he could finish writing the performance reviews that plagued him every autumn. How many different ways could he write, _Great officer, kind of a smart-ass._?

“Feds think expiring milk is a matter of national importance. But since he’s not apt to just go away, you might as well let him in.” Dobey started stacking the reports and putting them into his HR file, when the agent walked in. 

Letting out a deep groan, he rubbed his face with both hands. “Every time I see you Special Agent Carlson I end up with a new ulcer.”

“Sorry to hear that Captain.” The Fed was as cool and poised as always. In fact, the only time Dobey’d ever seen the man’s composure crack was a few months ago when Lieutenant Hutchinson had thrown him up against a wall.

“What brings you back to the West Coast so soon?”

“I’m now the Assistant Director for the San Francisco field office.”

“Hmmmm.” Dobey sat back. That was an interesting change. He wondered what had led to that decision. He wasn’t blind. There was something heavy and indescribable embroiled around this agent and Starsky and Hutch. Neither of his men had confided the details and he was fairly certain he wouldn’t like to know the answer anyway.

Agent Carlson opened his briefcase and withdrew a dark brown file with the FBI’s shield on the front. He pulled out the school photo of a young girl and laid it on the Captain’s desk.

“Her name is Samantha Brewster. Her fingerprints were sent to the agency as a Jane Doe your department took in a week ago. Her prints triggered a name that was on our Missing Children list. She was reported missing in November of last year by her parents in Provo, Utah. I asked your coroner to send me photos of the body to compare to the photos we had so I could make a preliminary match before contacting her parents.” Agent Carlson took a seat across the desk from Dobey. 

“Samantha had been dumped outside the ER at Memorial, dead of a cocaine overdose.”

“Well that explains why I haven’t heard anything about her. If she was DOA, we wouldn’t have an open investigation unless the ME told us to. Why are you bringing her ID to me?”

“In chatting with one of the docs at the hospital, Samantha is the third girl, between the ages of 16 and 19 to have been dumped off in the middle of the night at Memorial. One Jane Doe is still comatose, and the other died a few days after being dumped.”

“I appreciate your concern for these unfortunate girls, but sadly, these days cocaine OD’s happen many times a week.” Dobey had played enough poker in his life to know the agent held a final card he wasn’t revealing so he just watched the man and waited.

Withdrawing another black and white glossy from the file, Agent Carlson slid it across the desk. “Samantha had a tattoo for Foxfire Studios inside her arm.” 

Dobey was getting frustrated now. The agent was looking at him like this was somehow significant but he didn’t know why and was annoyed that the man was playing with him.

“So?”

Agent Carlson actually looked slightly uncomfortable. “Foxfire is a studio in San Francisco that specializes in adult films, especially homo-erotic ones. And Samantha was only seventeen. Given the nature of the films, the Director assigned the case to me.” He gave Dobey a look to see if the man would react. He didn’t know if Ken had ever told the Captain about his sexual orientation, not that it was any of the man’s business.

Dobey just looked back at him, face unreadable. “How very nice for you Agent Carlson. I still don’t know why I should care about your assignment.”

“Sir, I would like to go undercover at Foxfire. I have experience being under as a homosexual man, as you may remember. However, I am getting some...resistance from agents in my office for this assignment.”

Dobey snorted a little. “I’d imagine you would. Isn’t that what brought you to me four years ago? Doesn’t take a genius to know what you want now. Which of them do you want?”

 _The tall blond with the luscious ass,_ screamed the basal part of his brain, but Agent Carlson pushed it back. 

“If you can spare them, I would like them both. To put them under at a gay porn studio could get dicey. If they are together, there is less potential for complication.” He said the last word with great intention.

Standing up, Dobey walked to the back of his office and poured himself a cup of water from the dispenser he kept there. Damn ulcers. He needed to start charging the Feds for pain and suffering.

“Freeing up Lieutenant Hutchinson will be more complicated. He hasn’t been undercover for more than a few hours in almost two years. I’ll need to talk to my command team and I will get back to you before the week is over.”

Agent Carlson stood up and gathered his photos. “Sir, I was hoping to get started right away.”

“The girl’s not going to get un-dead and OD’s aren’t exactly a serial killer MO. I think you can sit on it for a few days.” Dobey leveled a gaze at him that the Agent took to mean he should think twice about pushing the issue.

“Thank-you for your time Captain.” He walked out the side door he knew would lead to the squad room.

“Shit, Hotpants, don’t you ever work in your own office?” Starsky sat on the back of his chair looking at crime scene photos spread out across his desk.

“Of course I do, Curly, but I seem to keep having to come down here and do your work for you.”

Starsky smirked. “Mr. Peterson, fourth grade, beat you to that one. Plus major deductions for lack of originality.”

The Fed huffed a bit and walked a few steps towards the door at the far side of the squad room that he knew would lead down the hall to Hutch’s office.

“He ain’t there.” Starsky spoke, not looking up from his photos.

For a brief moment, Carlson wanted to say, “You don’t know where the hell I was going”, but realized such protestations were worthless. Instead, he decided to just admit it.

“Tell him I said hello?” and he turned and walked the other direction towards the main hall.

“Sure will, HP. Have a safe drive back home.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, Captain Dobey held his weekly Command briefing with all three of his Lieutenants.

“Starting Monday, Hutchinson will be pulled out of rotation. I’m putting Sergeant Meredith in temporary rotation for the next two weeks.”

Hutch looked surprised and looked at the other LT’s to see if they already knew, but they seemed as dumbfounded as he was.

“Why is that Cap’n?”

“Seems your country once again needs your services more than this department.”

Lieutenant Curtis snorted and Hutch glared at him.

“What is the assignment,” he asked, turning back to look at his Captain.

“I am unclear of the nature of the assignment other than that you are to report to the Assistant Director of the FBI office in San Francisco. And you’re to take Sergeant Starsky with you.”

“Bullshit”, Lieutenant McAvoy coughed into his hand.

“McAvoy! I’m not interested in your opinions. The Feds want Starsky and Hutch and I am not in a position to tell them no!”

Hutch felt the discomfort of the room. He was pretty sure only he, and now Dobey, knew G-man was now in the San Francisco office, but the city’s reputation alone made the request of him and Starsky rumor-mill worthy. Made him wish that his Captain had chosen to tell him privately, but he knew even this man, who had been like a father to him, couldn’t be expected to understand the implications from Hutch’s perspective.

“I will brief Sergeant Starsky when he comes off shift.” Hutch nodded.

“Sure you will.” McAvoy spoke under his breath. Hutch resisted the strong urge to slam the man’s head against the table. Was a time when he would have. But now, it just wasn’t worth it.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hutch walked into the locker room, carrying his briefcase, his sport jacket draped over his arm. He’d kept the Glock 17 Agent Carlson had given him almost two months ago, qualifying on it while Starsky had recuperated from his gunshot wound. The weapon was nestled in a small, hard, leather holster on his right hip. 

He leaned against a bank of lockers, watching Starsky change his undershirt, his left arm moving stiffly. Starsk had done physical therapy like a fiend to get back in record time, but there was still a dent on the outside of his bicep where muscle tissue had been shredded by the bullet that had lodged there. The scar was still an ugly, bright, fuchsia color.

“We got a new assignment, Starsk.” Hutch spoke quietly.

Looking puzzled, Starsky reached for his shoulder holster. Hutch reached out to help hold one strap so he could slide his left arm in. “You working up a joint op?”

“Nope. This is one we’ve been conscripted for.”

“Both of us? By who?” Starsky decided to not throw on his button-up shirt and bent over to shove it into his gear bag. 

“The Assistant Director of the FBI.”

Starsky stood up slowly and withered Hutch with an annoyed look. “Again? Why doesn’t the man just lateral to BCPD for as much as he seems to want to work with us.” Hutch moved to carry the duffel but Starsky grabbed it up and slung it over his left shoulder. “I got it.” He pushed past Hutch and out the locker room door.

Hutch stood there for a moment, closed his eyes, and with a sigh of exasperation, followed his partner.

“Starsk!” He called after him in the hall, catching up to him quickly. “Give me the keys.”

“Like hell.”

Hutch grabbed Starsky’s left wrist and spun him back against the wall. “You’re pissed off which makes you reckless. If you can’t control yourself, I’m not getting in any car you’re driving. Keys. Now.”

Starsky fumed as he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out the keys for the Torino, shoving them roughly into Hutch’s hand.

“Thank-you.” Hutch let go and started walking again, his partner keeping step at his side.

“Asshole.” Starsky grumbled.

“Baby.” Hutch answered back.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good thing we haven’t gotten our dog yet.” Starsky groused as they threw suitcases, duffels, gun bags and Hutch’s briefcase into the trunk of the Torino.

Hutch ignored the comment, hoping that his partner would give up on the whole dog idea. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom before we go. You want anything more from inside?” Hutch asked.

“Nope, let’s get a move on.” Starsky leaned against the driver’s side, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. More than once Hutch wondered why he bothered to button it up at all, but he didn’t want to linger on the image of the broad chest covered in dark curls because he really did have to pee and a hard-on would only slow that down.

Once they were underway, Hutch decided it was a good time to brief his partner on what was coming. He’d had a long conversation last night with G-man about what it was the agent was planning. It was pretty daring and he felt a small thrill at what it would be like to work this op, if he could get Starsky to go along with it.

“G-man thinks there is a serial killer of sorts working the party scene around Bay City and LA.” Hutch started.

“Whaddaya mean, ‘of sorts’?” Starsky’s face was serious, indicating he was thinking.

“Three girls have ended up at Memorial, dead of an overdose. But he’s found another four similar cases at hospitals around LA.”

“OD’s are hardly unusual in LA.” Starsky remarked dryly, glancing at his partner.

“G-man has found a common thread. All the girls seem to have connection to Foxfire Studios in San Francisco.”

Starsky’s eyebrows went up and he looked over at Hutch again. “Again, drugs and the porn industry ain’t exactly strangers. What makes him think there is anything other than they didn’t ‘Just Say No.’”

“One of the most prolific directors at Foxfire has a reputation of going through girls like candy. He’s always got a new one on his arm, all under the age of 18, though the feds have not been able to catch him trafficking or even doing anything illegal with them. G-man thinks he gets them to OD when he’s tired of them.”

“Great.” Starsky grumbled. “I guess we’re supposed to get close enough to him to catch him doing something we can charge him on?”

“Pretty much.”

“OK. How about if I’m a camera operator and you can...” Starsky started before Hutch reached over and laid a hand inside his thigh. Instinctively, Starsky held it.

“G-man’s already worked up the cover. He has a rather specific idea.”

The slightly higher pitch of Hutch’s voice put Starsk on edge a bit and he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask, but he did. “What does Agent Hotpants have in mind for the two of you to do together?”

“Um, not him and I. You and me. We’re to be, uh , well, actors. G-man will be our agent.”

“He wants you and I to fuck on film?” Starsky looked incredulously at his partner.

“He is hoping that we won’t actually have to do that, but given the circumstances, he thought we’d rather do that with each other than with some stranger.”

“Shit. You could have told him he could just come over some night and watch instead of pulling us out of our real jobs for this.”

“Starsky, don’t be nasty. I think he’s being very considerate about us, especially you.”

“How you figure that?”

“He could have asked Dobey for just me.” Hutch studied his partner’s face, watching the subtle workings of his expressions.

“If I’m s’posed to be thankful for small favors, I’m not.” He squeezed Hutch’s hand and said, “You sure this isn’t some temp job you found in the paper?” Starsky’s eyes sparkled teasingly.

“Hey!” Hutch smiled in memory. “At least I was trying to find us work!” Hutch wiggled his hand away from Starsky’s and started stroking his long fingers up and down his partner’s crotch, feeling the denim fabric tighten as the man’s cock grew in response.

“Y’know for someone so concerned about my drivin’ angry, you sure play fast and loose with my dick while I drive.”

“This is much more fun.”

“Yeah,” Starsky moaned a little, “but at least when I’m angry, I’m tryin’ to drive.” He pulled the Torino off to the side of the road, remembering another reason he preferred the more deserted Hwy 33 to the Five.

Hutch had Starsky’s zipper down and his cock out by the time the Torino had come to a full stop. Reaching over, Starsk pushed the back of Hutch’s head downward and his partner did not protest at all.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was just before dusk when they pulled up at Agent Carlson’s townhouse. Once settled, they’d sat on the floor around his coffee table drinking beer and eating pizza.

“I can make spaghetti sauce tomorrow night if you guys like.” The Fed was feeling very good, enjoying their laughter and company. This was why he’d moved back to California.

“I thought you were Swedish.” Starsky asked, leaning back on his arms, stretching his left out purposefully.

“You’d rather I fix you lutefisk?” He remarked dryly.

Starsky made a face, “Eww, no. I’m questioning your ability to make a good sauce.”

“Just because you got an aunt that’s Italian doesn’t make you some kind of authority on sauce.” Hutch interjected.

“Does too! Aunt Rose’s sauce is primo! Ask anyone.”

“Why don’t you let me make it first before you start complaining about it, Fussy-boy.”

Hutch looked between them with a raised eyebrow, “Fussy-boy?”

His partner leaned towards him, “He’s trying to come up with a nickname he thinks will annoy me as much as ‘Hotpants’ annoys him.”

Taking a sip of his beer, Hutch looked over at G-man. “Good luck with that,” he said doubtfully.

“Oh, please. He can’t be nickname proof! C’mon Hutch help me out here.” Carlson pleaded jokingly.

“How about if I help you.” Starsky sat up.”Let’s see, the old ladies back in my neighborhood used to call me ‘shayna punim’ which means ‘pretty face’.”

Hutch laughed and added, “Your Aunt Ruthie calls you Dovid!”

Starsky let out a deep laugh and said, “That would be a good one for this op!”

Puzzled, Carlson asked, “Why?”

Hutch was giggling now. “Because Dov means ‘bear’ in Hebrew. Dovid/David. It’s a play on his name.”

Starsky held his waist as he started laughing harder, “I’m not sure I can pull off being a Bear for a gay porno. I’m in too good’a shape.”

“You got the hair! Just don’t let them hear those little squeaky noises you make!”

Starsky launched at his partner, covering his mouth, still laughing. “Shut-up! I do not!”

Hutch pulled Starsky’s hand off his mouth and said, “Squeak-squeak-squeak” before exploding in fits of laughter.

Seeing his way in, Carlson looked at them both. “These wouldn’t be orgasmic squeaks would they?”

Starsky glared at his partner, who was nodding while trying to stop from laughing. “No! I don’t fuckin’ squeak!”

“Alright, Hamster. I believe you.” Carlson smirked into his beer bottle, not taking his eyes off Starsky’s.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Late the next afternoon, they drove to Foxfire Studios. Agent Carlson had already laid the ground work of setting himself up as an aspiring talent agent who was bringing in a pair of hot, new actors desperate for cash to be interviewed by the man he had fingered as the reason all the girls had ended up dead. Joey Baglio was in his late 50s, overweight, and smoked cigars constantly. There were only three reasons any pretty girl hung on his arms: money, drugs or the promise of fame. Usually, all three. But as long as they just sat next to him and preened, they couldn’t do anything about it, even if they were underage. The Fed’s hope was that if he or the two detectives could witness the man either giving them drugs or asking them to participate in any kind of sexual activity, that would be enough for a warrant to search the entire studio for tapes, photos, or other evidence that could link him to the dead girls.

Joey met on a soundstage with a bedroom set already arranged. There was a t-bar off to one side, ankle straps at the bottom. Clearly, this picture wasn’t just your basic gay-porno.

Agent Carlson shook Joey’s hand eagerly. “Such an honor to meet a great director like yourself Mr. Baglio. I am looking forward to our new arrangement. Here are two of my best finds: Davey and Kenny. Shake the man’s hand boys.”

Starsky tried not to roll his eyes. They’d talked on the way about their cover names. G-man said he thought boyish versions of their real names would be easiest to remember. Starsky pointed out that he and Hutch never called each other by their given names, so what did it matter? Plus, Carlson had already created his own cover as Andrew Gibson, which wasn’t anything like his real name. Hutch had finally intervened, saying if it made it easier for G-man, then that’s what they should do. Starsk tried to not be annoyed at his partner siding against him, but was anyway.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Baglio.” Hutch spoke softly, almost shyly. Starsky shook the man’s hand but didn’t say anything.

“What would you like the boys to do for their audition?” Carlson asked.

“Mr. Gibson...”

“Please, call me Andrew” 

“Whatever. Look, I’ve been in this business for a long time. And that has given me certain, shall we call ‘em, instincts. My instincts are making me real nervous about you.”

“Me? I’m just trying to get into some action. Beats workin’ at that real estate office for chump change.” Carlson was pulling off nervous and desperate pretty well, but Starsky wasn’t sure it would be enough. He started looking around, noticing every door, window, and body in the room, formulating a plan if this went sour.

“Well, anyone can find a couple of fags-for-hire and try to pull them off as porn actors.” Baglio nodded towards Hutch and Starsky. “But in my experience, cops won’t actually do the dance.”

 _At least he buys Hutch and I as gay,_ Starsky thought. _OK, HP, what are you gonna do with this?_

“A cop? I don’t know where that’s coming from but I’m in this for the money. Trust me, you don’t want me in front of the camera.” Agent Carlson tried to look as wimpy as he could, which given the man’s build and height, was pretty hard to pull off.

“See, that’s the kind of shit cops usually pull. They don’t like to get their hands, or in this case, their dicks, dirty. You asked for an audition, no cameras. Now’s your chance to prove to me your sincerity. I won’t even make you pick. I think I like the look of you and the blond, full anal. I’m not letting you get away with a simple blow job.”

All three men looked at each other. Carlson knew there was no way he could let this happen and expect either man to ever trust him again.

“I don’t gotta prove nothin. You don’t want my business, I’ll find someone else.” Carlson turned, figuring they’d find another way to get the man, when he heard the cock of a hammer being pulled back. Turning, he saw Baglio holding a pistol to Hutch’s chest. Starsky was edging closer, when Joey said, “Move another inch and pretty boy is pretty dead.” 

Starsky made the only move he could. “Shit, Andrew, just fuck ‘im already.” Turning to Baglio he said, “But how am I gonna get any money if I ain’t getting any action?”

Baglio smirked at Starsky, “I like you. That’s why I’m saving you for somethin’ special. Tell you what. They do a good show and I’ll give you $400 dollars just for playing along.” He lowered the gun and motioned towards a doorway off to the left. “Dressing room’s that way boys. Paulie here’s gonna make sure you find your way,” he added as a large man with a gun strapped to his hip stood behind them.

Once inside the “dressing room”, which basically consisted of a table with several containers of lube, some sex toys, and a box of baby wipes on it, they had some freedom to talk quietly. 

“Guess it’s really an undressing room.” G-man quipped as they walked in and heard Paulie close the door, followed by a click that sounded like they were being locked in.

Hutch wheeled on G-man, sticking a finger in his chest. “You sure found a way to get what you wanted huh? No matter who gets hurt in the process!” He was furious, but spoke only as loudly as he dared.

G-man swung his arm around, smacking Hutch’s hand down and away from him. “Fuck you. I don’t like being coerced into sex any more than anyone else. I tried to walk away. You don’t get to pin your guilt over this on me.” The two men stood staring at one another while Starsky just watched them.

After a few moments, Hutch looked over at his partner, his expression pained. “Starsk?”

“All I care about is the three of us goin’ home alive.” He wove his fingers into Hutch’s hair and drew him close. “Sometimes you gotta go where the op takes you, Babe. At least you don’t have to shoot me this time.” Hutch let out a bitter laugh as he leaned in pressed his forehead against Starsky’s. 

Starsky touched a hand to Hutch’s chest. “Your body and your heart ain’t the same thing. But only you’ll know for sure.” Hutch kissed him deeply, allowing the familiarity of his partner’s lips to relieve his anxiety and loosen his body.

Agent Carlson felt his insides twist as he watched the exchange between the two men and a pressing sadness enveloped him with the knowledge that no matter how long he knew Ken, or even the intimate act they were about to perform, nothing would ever bring him to the kind of love the two men had for each other. 

G-man unzipped his windbreaker and untucked his t-shirt. They had made the choice to go into this situation unarmed, which had proved to be both the right and wrong decision. His movements drew Starsky and Hutch back into the room as they acknowledged his presence again. Starsk went and stood by the door, while Hutch started to pull off his shirt as well.

Looking at the table, Hutch asked, “Do you think we’re supposed to prepare ourselves first?”

G-man looked embarrassingly at the table and back at Hutch. “That would be my assumption. Which means, we’re gonna have to decide who’s on top.” The agent looked only at Hutch for the answer.

“You are.” Hutch said, then looked to Starsky for approval, which he got in the form of the slightest of nods. It had been an instinctive answer but now that he thought about it, the times he topped Starsky were all the more special because of their rarity and he wanted to preserve that.

G-man picked up one of the tubes and held it out to Starsky, who shook his head. “It’ll be easier for both of you if you get over the uneasiness in here. Our cover’s already on thin ice as it is.”

Understanding what Starsky was getting at, Hutch walked over and ran a hand up the Fed’s arm and onto his bare shoulder. He’d seen the man topless before, but this was the first time he’d explored the feel of his skin. “I’m still me, G-man. We can do this.” Hutch looked into his eyes and leaned in to kiss him, realizing that this was the first time he’d ever initiated a kiss with the agent.

Agent Carlson allowed himself to turn his brain off and just feel. Parting his lips to allow Ken entrance, he responded to each stroke of tongue with his own and slid his hands up, exploring the feel of abdomen and pectorals beneath his fingers, circling nipples that hardened at his touch. 

Starsky leaned against the wall, waging an internal battle. He felt his cock harden at the sight of the two of them exploring each other in front of him, while also feeling his stomach twist in jealousy and embarrassment at his own arousal. He watched the Fed reach down to unbuckle Hutch’s belt and unzip his jeans, never breaking contact with his mouth. 

The two men kept kissing for a moment longer when HP broke it and turned Hutch, placing his hands on the table, and then walked to stand behind him. He pulled Hutch’s jeans and briefs down, running his hands over the smooth, muscular ass he’d longed to touch for so many years. Pushing down his emotions, he ran one hand up Hutch’s back, gently pressing to indicate that he wanted him to bend over more. He was grateful for the immediate response because the one thing he couldn’t do right now was talk.

Starsky closed his eyes for a moment struggling between needing to watch and not wanting to at the same time. When he heard the top of the lube container hit the table, he opened his eyes.

Hutch had his forearms crossed on the table now, his face resting on them, eyes closed. He was breathing very shallowly. G-man was slowly stroking Hutch’s elongated cock as he inserted the first finger, working it in slow revolutions as he slid it in and out. Starsky was surprised to see Hutch bring a hand down and still the hand stroking him. He gently removed the fed’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze and then letting go. Nodding in quiet understanding, G-man instead rested his hand on Hutch’s hip as he inserted a second finger, stretching him out further. This caused Hutch to groan a little and then catch his breath as G-man pushed in a third finger, moving the trio in deeper.

“Relax, Ken-doll. That’s it,” his voice barely above a whisper.

A loud banging on the door made all three men jump. “Alright Gibson, get out here.”

Agent Carlson pulled a few baby wipes out of the box and wiped his fingers as Hutch pulled his jeans back up. Leaning in, Hutch gave G-man a quick kiss and said, “Showtime!” before taking Starsky’s hand and walking to the door, which was now slightly ajar.

Walking to the set, Starsky whispered into Hutch’s ear, “This is the craziest party there could ever be.”

Hutch smiled and whispered back, “Mama told me not come.”

“That ain’t the way to have fun, son.” Starsky softly sucked Hutch’s earlobe into his mouth. “I love you.”

“I know” Hutch squeezed the hand he was still holding before letting go.

“Davey! You come sit next to me.” Baglio commanded. “Gibson, show me what you can do.”

“I need to check and make sure that camera doesn’t have any film in it.” Starsky walked over to the camera. 

“Don’t you touch that!” Baglio shouted. “That camera’s worth more than your life. Why do you care if there’s film in it or not?”

Starsky shrugged. “If my partner’s gonna get filmed, he’s gettin’ paid for it. We don’t perform for free, no matter who’s askin’.”

Joey Baglio laughed. “You are my kinda kid! Alright, Jimmy, show him the film carriage.”

Convinced the camera was empty and off, Starsky walked over to Baglio. “What do you want me to do?”

Speaking to the short red-head on his right, Joey said, “Skipper, honey, entertain my boy Davey while I get these other two going.”

Joey walked onto the set where Hutch stood next to Agent Carlson, whispering. They stopped as soon as Baglio was in hearing range.

“Gonna make this will be real easy for you. Kenny here has to last at least 10 minutes, or he’s useless on film. I don’t care what you do until then, but by the end of this, somebody better have a dick in their ass, or this is gonna be a snuff film.” Baglio’s eyes narrowed at the agent and held his gaze.

“No problem Joey” Hutch interrupted the stare-down.

“It’s not you I’m worried about. But you better hope your ‘agent’ convinces me or that sweet face of yours is nothin’ but a memory.”

While Joey Baglio was busy threatening Hutch, Starsky was having his own whispered conversation with Skipper, which he doubted was her real name.

“You like girls too, or just boys?” She asked, putting her hand inside his shirt and massaging his chest.

“Mostly boys, but girls have their uses.” He grinned at her. “How old are you?”

“I turned 16 last month. Joey’s gonna buy me a car.” She giggled, too young and inexperienced to know she’s supposed to lie. Being underage was going to make Starsky’s job a whole lot easier.

“My birthday was last month too.” Starsky lied. “What day?”

“The 18th. When’s yours?” She was still roving her hands all over him. Much as he hated it, he needed to keep her talking enough to get some details that could help him identify her later. If they could get her out before she’d outlived her usefulness to Joey, she would make a great witness.

“Mine’s the 17th. I celebrated at the beach with my friends. I love a bonfire.” Starsky wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close. 

“I love it when Joey takes me to the beaches in LA. They’re so much better than back home.” She snuggled into Starsky’s arms as he kissed her lightly on the ear.

“Where’s home?” He whispered between kisses.

“Marin City, but I ain’t ever goin’ back there.”

“I didn’t take you for a switch hitter Davey.” Joey sat down in the chair next to where Starsky was standing.

Starsky wasn’t sure what Joey was up to, so he kept himself very loose. “I can appreciate beautiful things, even if I don’t play with them.” 

Baglio chuckled. “Oh, she’s a good toy, Davey. Skipper, why don’t you get to work fluffin’ the man while I get the read on these two. Then we’ll make Davey earn his money.” 

_That was one felony charge._ Starsky thought, but he needed to do something to prevent Skipper from actually doing what she’d been ordered.

“I appreciate the offer, but girls tend to be too gentle for me. Just let me watch the action and I’ll be ready.”

Joey looked at him, questioningly. “Oh she can be rough alright. I’ll show you the B-roll I got on her yesterday. The hellcat’s personality matches her hair. But suit yourself.”

 _Felony number two, plus evidence._ He had enough to get a warrant from a lenient judge. The best would be if he could get Skipper to walk out with them, but he wasn’t going to push the man’s suspicions any further.

Looking over, Hutch and Carlson were standing close, whispering again. He wished he knew what they were talking about.

“Alright, boys. Show me some goodies.” Joey commanded loudly.

This time Agent Carlson took the lead and pulled Hutch in for a kiss, which was met with eager effort. Hutch broke it quickly though and started to kiss down G-man’s neck.

The agent widened his stance a little as Hutch worked his way down his neck and onto his chest. Reaching out, Carlson undid the fly and pulled Hutch’s cock out, stroking it as he let it rest against the edge of Hutch’s open zipper. Hutch pulled his pants down just enough for the top of his dick to be visible before dropping first to one knee then the other.

With deft fingers, he unzipped G-man’s pants and pulled them down to mid-thigh. 

“I thought you didn’t want a blow job.” Starsky leaned in to Joey who was watching the show with great intensity.

“I told them they had to end with penetration, but how they got there was up to them.” Joey replied, not taking his eyes off the duo.

Starsky watched as Hutch’s lips slid over the agent’s cock. This was the first time either of them had seen that much of Agent Hotpants. It was painfully erotic to watch Hutch’s lips and tongue at work, but it was better than looking at the Fed’s reaction to it, so he kept his focus on his partner. It was hard to deny the skill with which his lover sucked and licked.

From Agent Carlson’s view, he was the living out a fantasy so often used to bring himself off. The reality felt even better than he could have hoped. In those whispered moments, he and Hutch had agreed to try and block out as much of what was going on around them as they could.

“I can’t lie and say this won’t mean anything Ken-doll.” He’d whispered to Hutch after they’d walked onto the set.

“I know. It’s not exactly just sex for me either. But it’s not love G-man. You know that right?”

“I can’t say what it will be for me and that’s as honest as I can be about it.”

“OK. But you have to promise me we’ll talk about this after. You matter to me and I will hate it if this comes between us.” Agent Carlson had nodded and decided to just take the gift this op had given him. 

Recalling the kindness of Hutch’s words, he pushed all that emotion into focusing on the silky heat of Hutch’s mouth, running his fingers through blond hair, guiding the rhythm now, working quickly to a crescendo and hoping enough time had passed to get them by. The blow job had been Hutch’s idea, figuring that if he could focus bringing G-man off first, then it would slow down them down. Based on their dressing room warm up, Hutch wanted to be sure he lasted the required amount of time.

“Oh, God!” Hutch felt G-man’s grip tighten in his hair as he clamped his lips down, waiting for all the cum to spurt in his throat before swallowing. Backing his mouth off, he wiped his lips lightly, feeling the acidic sting that came from pre-cum and semen.

Standing back up, Carlson launched at him kissing him madly and Hutch had to grab the other man’s arms to steady himself. Tasting himself on Hutch’s tongue made his own lust spike into an animal-like frenzy. Grabbing a fistful of Hutch’s hair, he turned his ear toward him and whispered, “I don’t know if I can be gentle through this Ken-doll. I’m trying but, holy fuck.” 

Hutch sucked hard on the man’s neck for a moment, leaving a red mark and then said, “I can handle anything you give me G-man.”

In answer, Carlson gave a gentle bite on Hutch’s neck, followed by sucking hard on the same spot. Hutch knew there was going to be a serious hickey there and he gasped a little at the electricity that seemed to zip from the spot where G-man was sucking all the way down to his groin, which was throbbing now with untreated arousal.

Starsky felt a little weak watching the increased aggression between his partner and the fed. Mistaking this for arousal, Joey motioned for one of his goons to bring over another directors chair. Starsky was grateful for it. 

With quiet dominance, G-man spun Hutch around. “Grab the bed,” he ordered and Hutch complied instantly. He then popped the lid off the container of lube he had brought out from the dressing room and wedged between the mattress and the footboard. The agent roughly pulled Hutch’s pants down the rest of the way and slapped his ass impatiently as he stepped out of them. 

The sound of the smack echoed in Starsky’s ears. This was going in a way he had not expected at all. Was HP roughing it up on purpose? Or had they been given this parameter by Joey when he’d gone over there? He wished he could see Hutch’s face, but his partner had his back to him now.

G-man reached around, grabbing Hutch’s erection firmly and stroked. Hutch grunted and Starsky started out of his chair but caught himself. The Fed wouldn’t hurt Hutch on purpose. He had to keep cool. Glancing over at Joey, he saw the director lean forward, studying the pair.

“Back that ass up.”Carlson ordered and Hutch took a few steps backward, keeping his hands on the top of the footboard of the bed. The agent smacked against each cheek a few times in rapid succession, leaving the skin bright pink. Starsky shifted forward, trying to catch any glimpse of Hutch’s face. His partner was making no noise, but his erection was evident. A feeling of helplessness started to overtake Starsky and he wanted this to end.

As if sensing that, Carlson lubed himself up and pressed the tip of his cock against the tight opening. It was a good thing he’d stretched Hutch out a bit, because he pushed in hard and quick, causing Hutch to moan loudly and Starsky to nearly jump out of his chair again. Once sheathed, G-man stilled and leaned forward, trailing soft kisses along Hutch’s back, while his hand slowly stroked his painfully hard cock.

G-man pulled out slow and then went in hard, repeating this process over and over. Hutch’s knuckles were white from gripping the footboard hard to keep his balance. Both men glistened with sweat as the speed of G-man’s pounding increased until Hutch’s orgasm spurted over his hand, the agent slammed into him several more times and stilled as the waves of his second orgasm crashed through his body.

Pulling out, G-man turned Hutch around and wrapped his arms around him, drawing him against his body. Finally able to see his face, Starsky was both relieved and pained to see nothing but lust and satiation in Hutch’s expression. It had been hard and fast, but clearly also pleasurable for both men and Starsky struggled with what to do next.

“Well, I admit when I’m wrong. Gibson, you’d make an excellent dom. I’d triple any take you’d get as a talent agent. I was going to have you do a little rough stuff on Davey here,” he motioned to Starsky, “but you beat me to it. Alright. You’re all hired.” 

Turning towards the girls he yelled, “Skipper, Barbie, let’s go.” The two girls quickly followed him off the soundstage and the three men quickly realized the few other men who had been in the room before were gone.

“I guess that’s it then.” Hutch said wearily as he bent over and grabbed his pants, stepping back into them as quickly as he could and headed with HP for the dressing room to grab the rest of their clothes. 

Starsky followed them. He grabbed the Fed by the elbow and growled, “What the hell...” but Hutch wheeled on him. “Not now buddy. Not now. Let’s just get out of here.” Hutch grabbed G-man’s shirt and their shoes and walked over to where the Fed sat in a chair, looking to the floor.

Hutch handed him his clothes, one piece at a time. Starsky couldn’t help but think that his partner was protecting the man, putting his body between the Fed and himself.

Once Carlson was dressed, Hutch led the way off the soundstage and to the car. They drove back to the townhouse in total silence.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After getting home, Agent Carlson phoned the on-call DA and had Starsky give his testimony over the phone. The DA called a judge and they were able to get a search warrant issued within a few hours. There were some serious advantages to federal court and the speed with which the prosecutors could move was one of them. Carlson made a few more calls to his agents and they were off serving the warrant before midnight.

Both Hutch and Carlson left to shower while Starsky made dinner. He was in a comfort-food mood, so he’d opted for grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Looking through Hotpants’ kitchen further cemented for him the similarities between them. His cupboards were full of pre-packaged meals and his fridge was mostly beer. Dishes were a hodge-podge of different sets he’d collected over the years as a single man. As he waited for the sandwiches to darken enough to flip, he couldn’t block out of his brain everything he’d seen today. G-man was much rougher than he’d figured, especially given the gentleness with which he’d fingered Hutch in the dressing room. The two of them together were hot as fuck, he couldn’t deny that to himself. Thinking on it, he was glad the agent had been rough. It helped him have some distance. Carlson had fucked Hutch, but he hadn’t made love to him. Starsky isn’t sure he could have stomached watching that.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I, uh, I don’t have another bathroom, Ken. So, you can go first.”

“You had your cock in my ass less than an hour ago. We can do this together. I bet you’re craving warm, soapy water as much as me.”

“Starsky won’t be upset?”

“Maybe. But right now, you’re the one I’m worried about. And this gives us a chance to talk.”

Carlson nodded and turned on the water. They stripped down again in silence as steam filled the bathroom. He motioned for Hutch to get in first. It seemed the hospitable thing to do, but he felt bumbling and awkward about it. After four years of dreaming of having Hutch in his arms, today was both a gift and a nightmare. He stepped into the tub and drew the curtain closed, staying back to give room. 

Hutch turned around and pulled him closer. “You’re gonna be cold if you’re not under the spray.” Carlson’s hands hung at his side, fingers in a loose grip. _Like you’re holding a roll of quarters_ , his training master had taught. 

“Gunnar, look at me.” He did, surprised to hear his own name because almost no one called him that anymore. “You promised me we’d talk.”

He nodded and reached behind Hutch to grab the bottle of Prell and twisted off the top, pouring some out into his friend’s palm and then his own before re-twisting it and dropping to back in the corner. “I know. I’m still reeling, I guess. This wasn’t what I planned for today and it sure as hell was not how I envisioned having sex with you.” He felt flushed suddenly. “Not that I expected that to happen, but I...” He closed his eyes. His bearing was for shit today. 

The feel of soft, soapy hands ran across his chest made him open his eyes. “What are you...”

“Shhh, relax. Look, once we get downstairs, I’m Starsky’s partner. That is who I want to be and today doesn’t change that. But right now, in here, this is still part of the op. You got me?” Hutch grabbed the washcloth that hung on the small porcelain bar next to the soap. He lathered it up and started at G-man’s neck, gently washing down his front, to his waist. With total comfort and familiarity, he washed his now-erect cock and down between his legs to his toes. 

“Turn around.” Hutch whispered and he complied. Starting back at his shoulders, he massaged the warm, soapy, terry cloth down to his ass where Hutch kneaded the flesh in a way that was beyond arousing. Carlson began stroking himself slowly, one hand balancing himself against the tile and then he felt a finger penetrate him and he let out a low groan followed by sparks and a rush of heat as Hutch expertly stroked over his prostate and then gently replaced the agent’s hand with his own. He locked his stance, both hands on the tile now as Hutch stroked him firmly while tenderly massaging him. 

“Oh, fuck!” He moaned and he felt soft lips at his neck and back, kissing and nipping at him. He was awash in the warmth of the water and the slow build of pressure in his groin. “Ken, fuck, that’s...Oh my God, yes, there! Please don’t stop.”

“I’m right here. I got you.” Hutch increased the pace on his dick while somehow elongating the strokes inside him. His mind was crazy with it, wanting more, craving the high. Fingers splayed on the tiles and flexed as tiny lights sparked his vision and he erupted in his third orgasm of the day. His whole body leaned against the tile as he panted. He felt Hutch’s strong hands wrap at his hips.

“Trade places with me. You’re shivering.” Hutch wrapped him in a half hug and spun him around, so they were chest to chest and G-man was more fully under the warm water. 

He cupped a hand at Hutch’s cheek and said, “I don’t deserve this.”

Hutch smiled, “Of course you do. You deserve all this and more. You’re a man worthy of great respect and even greater love. I really am sorry that I can’t give you more.”

“I know. I feel like I’ve stolen too much already.” He stroked down one cheek with his thumb, trying to hold back tears.

“When we go downstairs, we’re gonna talk with Starsky. He’s gonna be upset but I’ll try to deflect the blows.”

“No. I need to bear whatever he throws at me. I owe him that.”

“You sure?” Hutch knew exactly what it felt like to be on the receiving end of Starsky’s anger. G-man nodded.

“OK.” Hutch leaned in and kissed him until water and washed away all the shampoo and soap and G-man reached down, pushing the large dial inward, shutting off the tap. They dried off and Hutch pulled on jogging shorts and a t-shirt. The Fed opted for a pair of lose sweats and no shirt.

“Ready?” Hutch asked.

“As ever.” He felt the tug of longing to make this moment last as long as he could, but knew it had to end.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They came down the stairs to find the table set and the food smelled amazing, even if it was just grilled cheese and soup. They sat around the small, round kitchen table. Starsky had turned on a soft rock station he’d pulled up on the portable radio G-man kept in the kitchen. 

“You guys want beer or soda?” He asked, feeling bad that he wasn’t being a better host.

“Tab if you have it. Otherwise, water.”

“You got Dr. Pepper?” Starsky asked.

“Of course. It’s the nectar of the gods.”

“Oh God, not you too.” Hutch groaned. 

“I knew I liked you, Hotpants.” Starsky said as he and Hutch sat down.

The Fed carried the soda cans in his left as he placed three glasses down with his right. “I like you too, Hamster. Anyone want ice?”

Hutch could not contain a laugh, as Starsky squinted at the Fed. “You’re not seriously going with that one?”

G-man sat down across from him, Hutch between them. “The tone of your voice is telling me that is the perfect one.” Green eyes sparkled as he popped the top on his can and began to pour the dark red soda into his glass.

“You think I can’t come up with something worse than Hotpants?”

“I have no doubt. But once a nickname sticks...” He took a bite of his sandwich and smiled. “This is amazing! What did you do?”

Hutch picked up his own and said, “Starsk puts a thin layer of mayo under the cheese.”

“I never would have thought that would make such a difference.”

“My pop used to do it.” Starsky shrugged. 

“Tell him I have never eaten a grilled cheese that tasted like a gourmet meal.”

“I would, but he’s gone. Died when I was kid.”

“I’m sorry.” Carlson felt bad for how little he knew about Starsky compared to what he knew about Ken. _Intimately_ , his brain threw at him, causing a tide of guilt to rise in him as he glanced over to see Ken looking at him with sad eyes.

“It’s OK. Happened a long time ago. And I never had to worry about telling him about me and Hutch. I like to think he’d be ok with it, but I don’t know. So I just pretend that I’m right.”

“Dave, I’m sorry about a lot more than your dad. What happened today, I never thought...this was why I wanted you along, so you and Ken would have each other.”

“I know. But, I gotta ask you, why’d you go so hard? At first, I thought Joey’d asked you to do that but he seemed as surprised as me.”

Carlson looked at Hutch, concerned. “Did I hurt you? God, how much did I fuck this up?”

“I’m fine, G-man. Really. I’ve been roughed up way worse on the job. A few ass slaps aren’t gonna even bruise. We’re good. I’m good. It was all good.”

“And you can stop now.” Starsky chided.

Relief flooded the agent. He hadn’t been as rough as he’d done with some of his partners who were into that, so it hadn’t occurred to him to check that Hutch was OK. 

“Seems stupid to feel embarrassed talking about this. Not like we all weren’t in the same room.” He took a breath before continuing. “Part of it was just in the moment, but that isn’t all. I don’t normally do that with someone unless they ask for it. But I gave into the impulse because I knew it was as far from making love to Ken as I could get.” Both partners could see hear the pain in his words and they looked at each other. Hutch laid a hand on G-man’s shoulder and squeezed lightly.

Starsk looked at him, searching, “You did that for me? You had a chance to have something we both know you want, but you did that for me. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

“Yeah.” Green eyes met blue, both unwavering, but Starsky broke their gaze first.

“And how are you really doing in this?” Starsky asked as he looked at Hutch who was studying them both.

“Physically, I’m fine.” Hutch answered. “Emotionally, I’m uneasy. You know that there is attraction between G-man and me. We’ve fought about it enough that I don’t fully trust the calm you’re giving off right now.” 

Starsky looked away. He didn’t feel calm exactly, but he definitely wasn’t feeling the weight of the jealously that usually raged within in him when the Fed was around. “Hutch, I don’t hide my feelings from you. Never have and I’m not about to start. I can’t promise I won’t be upset later because I don’t know what will happen.” He paused and held out his hand to his partner, who took it.

“I’ve seen him kiss you before, but watching you take him in your mouth, knowing exactly what that feels like, and then seeing him inside you...It was like a kid confronting the monster in the closet and realizing there’s nothing there but clothes. My fear of you two together was much bigger than the reality, and was actually kinda hot.” Starsky smiled, but then quickly added, “Not that I’m sayin’ it should happen again. I guess, it’s that I trust you. Both of you.”

Hutch raised their hands to his lips and kissed his knuckles softly. “I love you.” He looked over at G-man, who was being very quiet and stoic. “How are you doing?”

The Fed leaned back, his arms crossed in front of himself. “I’m processing.” Silence filled the room as they waited for him and he understood that he owed both of them more, though he was not used to risking this much of himself. 

Hesitantly he continued, “I’m feeling guilt, frustration, uncertainty, and jealousy.” He opened his arms and leaned forward on the table. “Talking about this shit is not what I do, but I need...fuck.” He stood up from the table and walked to the kitchen. Hutch made like he was going to follow, but Starsky held up a hand and got up instead. From his seat at the table, Hutch could still see and hear them.

Starsky pulled gently on Carlson’s shoulder, willing the man to turn around. He did, and leaned back against the counter, clutching it as though he’d fall over if he let go. Starsky stepped close and placed his hands on both sides of the other man’s jaw. “Time to come clean, man.”

“I can’t.” The Fed tried to look away but Starsky held him firm. 

“You can. Say it.”

“I love him.”

“I know.”

“I want him.”

“I know that too.”

“You don’t. I’ve tried...” Tears welled behind green eyes. “I’ve tried to move on, to find someone who can...” A tear spilled down one cheek and Starsky gently wiped it with his thumb. “No matter who I’m with, all I do is compare them to him because he fits me. And I don’t want to hate you, but so often I do and then I hate myself more because you’re a good man Dave.” 

Starsky’s heart clenched and he kept a gentle hold of the man. “You’re a good man too Gunnar.”

“I’m not. You said today allowed you to face your fear but for me, it opened Pandora’s Box because all I can think about is how badly I want him again. Which means I will have to keep my distance from him and I can’t stand the thought of that. I hate being alone. I’m so tired of being alone.” He broke.

Starsky pulled him close, wrapped his arms around him, and gently massaged the back of his neck. Carlson let go of the counter and wrapped his arms around Starsky’s waist and cried into his shoulder. 

Hutch walked to them and pulled one of the Fed’s arms open, wrapped it around his own waist and placed soft kisses against his ear as he hugged both men. “You’re not alone. We’ve got you. I promise. We’ve got you.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Starsk felt they’d pulled as much honesty out of the Fed as was reasonable for one night and suggested they watch the Forty-niner’s play Washington on Monday Night Football for the rest of the evening. He and HP sat next to each other on the couch with Hutch laying across them, his head on a pillow on Starsky’s lap and his legs across the Fed. Right after he’d laid down, Hutch had taken Carlson’s hand and placed it on his own thigh, holding it there. Starsky surprised himself in that it didn’t bother him. As the game went on, the Fed relaxed and they all found a level of comfort. After the game, all of them were feeling the effects of their day and were ready for sleep. The night before, Carlson had slept on the couch, offering his one bedroom to his friends.

Starsky stood up as Hutch rubbed his eyes. “You comin’ babe?”

“I’m gonna take the couch tonight.” Off the deep confusion on the other two men’s faces he added, “I’m kinda needing to be solo tonight. And you two could use a good sleep. You’re both more strung out than I am.”

G-man objected first. “I can sleep here just fine. And I don’t know how I feel about...”

“That’s why I need you to do it.” Hutch turned to him. “You don’t know it, but you need Starsk in your life. Talk to him. It will help.” He leaned forward and kissed the Fed lightly on the cheek.

While not entirely sure what Hutch was meaning, Starsky knew that tearing down the walls that have been long erected between him and HP was important to not only his partner, but would be good for all of them. “Hope you don’t snore.” Starsky said with some sarcasm.

“Same to you.” Carlson remarked with equal sass as he stood and grabbed all their glasses to take to the kitchen.

Starsky squatted down in front of Hutch, placing a hand on the back of his partner’s neck. “You sure? Not afraid I’ll succumb to his Special Agent-wiles?” His eyes sparkled with humor. 

Hutch smiled back. “Hell, at this point, I wouldn’t blame you, but no. And that’s not what this about anyway. You know that right?”

“I do. You don’t want him to be alone.”

“That, and I meant what I said to him. He needs someone like you. You won’t let him hide behind his own bullshit. It’s one of your best gifts.”

“I love you.” Starsk kissed him.

“I love you too.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Starsky exited the bathroom, having brushed his teeth and wearing a pair of cotton pajama pants he’d brought for the trip. He normally slept either nude or in his underwear, but when he was somewhere other than home, it felt wrong to do that. Carlson was standing at the closet, hanging up his shirt, looking nervous. 

“You ever had to share a bed for an op?” Starsky asked casually.

“No. You?”

“You know I have.” Starsky walked to the side of the bed that clearly wasn’t the one Carlson normally used. 

“Sergeant Meredith. I forgot.” 

“Wasn’t that long ago, Fed. C’mon.” Starsky waved him over as he laid down under the covers.

Bolstered by the detective’s causal confidence, he turned off the overhead light and laid down beside him. Looking over he asked wryly, “You’re not worried I’ll kill you in your sleep?”

Starsk gave a brief laugh but cut himself off. “My first thought was, ‘you could try’ but I got poisoned in my sleep once, so fact is, I know that you, or anyone, could if they really wanted to.”

“When was that?”

“Eight years ago. Hutch and I had been partners for a couple years and I had all the arrogant confidence that comes from being 27. Was the first time I’ve been sure I was gonna die but wasn’t the last. Been very aware of how easily everythin’ can be taken away ever since.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have joked like that.” Carlson was suddenly aware of how relatively soft his career had been compared to Starsky’s. “How is it you’ve been through so much and yet be so...emotionally open, I guess.”

“I think one of the things that brought Hutch and I together is that we’re both more emotional than most of the cops we work with. When I was younger, I thought it was because we were passionate about the job, y’know? We were the only detectives who would yell right back at Captain Dobey and he and I argued way more then than we do now.”

“You’re kidding.” 

“Nope, you get the privilege of knowing us older and tamer.”

“I can’t even imagine you two more hotheaded than you are now.”

“It’s why we’re good together.” 

“Yeah.” Carlson said sadly. Starsky rolled on his side facing him.

“It’s why Hutch thinks we’re good for you too.”

“Because I’m devoid of emotion?” He turned his head towards his friend but stayed on his back.

“You’re not devoid of emotions. You’re afraid of them, of losing control. You don’t have to be with us.”

Carlson stared back at the ceiling. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking.”

“I don’t think you know what we’re offering. Fact is, there is only one other person this world who understands exactly it’s like to be in love with Ken Hutchinson and not be able to do anything about it and that’s me. I know what it’s like to look and not touch. To touch but not hold. To hold but not kiss. To kiss but not penetrate. To make love to him and crave him like you can’t breath without him. I get you. And you get me. The three of us, we’re bound together now. And I get that scares you.”

“I’m not scared, Dave. I appreciate that you are offering to bring me even more into your lives and I can’t tell you how much that means. You are two of the best friends I have ever had. But right now, all I can feel is the echo of his mouth on my cock, of how good he felt beneath me, and it is taking every ounce of control I have to not go out there right now and beg him for it all again. He didn’t tell you before, but when we got back, we showered together. He fingered me and made me come while you made us dinner and I’d do all over again even as I despise myself for doing that without you knowing.”

“I knew what you were doing. Not the specifics. But I knew.”

“You did?”

“I told you once that there wasn’t anything new under the sun between Hutch and me. Y’all took a while and I knew Hutch would not be able to leave things the way they were when we got back. That he’d want to take care of you.”

“And you didn’t care?”

“I cared very much. But I can’t love him and not love the part of him that would need to do that for you. You mean a great deal to him. You mean a lot to me too, even if it’s different. Look, I can’t tell you anything about the future. I only know that you’re in our lives now in a way that isn’t easily explained and we’re just gonna have to figure it out as we go.”

“You make that sound easy.”

Starsky rolled onto his belly and stretched out his legs while mushing his pillow to fit under his head as he yawned. “Nothing easy about it, HP. But doin’ what’s hard is how we know we’re the best.” 

“Good night, Dave.” 

“Night.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carlson woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. Looking over, Starsky was breathing slow and deep, dead to the world. He wasn’t sure if he should wake him or let him sleep. He figured he’d use the bathroom and decide after. Once up and in his sweatpants, the lure of caffeine and the tall blond who’d made it was too much, so he left Starsky to his dreams.

As he entered the kitchen, his breath caught at the sight of a strong, bare, back and low-slung flannel pants that fit snug against a tight ass. Hutch’s soft voice sang to himself as he stood at the stove. His cock swelled instantly and he found himself across the kitchen in a flash and wrapped his arms around Ken’s waist, drawing him close. 

“Morning G-man.” Hutch said.

“How’d you know it was me?”

He glanced back over his shoulder. “You don’t honestly believe I can’t tell the difference?” 

Carlson continued to hold him close, thankful Hutch was letting him. The urge to thrust against his backside was strong, but felt almost rude, so he just accepted the gift he was given in being allowed to hold him. “Guess I didn’t think that question through.”

“Coffee’s made and bacon is almost done. Pour yourself and Starsk a cup and go wake him up. I’m gonna start the eggs next but they won’t take long and he’s gonna want to shower before he eats.”

“You know him so well.” Carlson said with a twinge of jealousy. 

“When you’ve known him for over a decade, you will too.” Hutch turned and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Go.”

“Yes, sir.” He took a step back and went to the cupboard over the coffee pot. “He takes it black?”

Hutch shook his head, “With just a little milk. No sugar.”

As he poured, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Do you know how I take my coffee?” And watched as Ken wrapped the bacon slices in paper towels and put them on a plate. 

“You drink it black first thing in the morning, but if you’re trying to stay awake or you’re on a night-op, you add cream and sugar, I presume for the tiny bit of protein and sugar rush.” Hutch answered automatically but then stood still when he saw the look on G-man’s face. “You OK?”

“I just...Every time I think I’m gonna be able to handle this OK, you do something like that and...fuck.” He rocked on his heels a bit and then grabbed the two cups and walked back to his room. Once there, he put the cup on the nightstand beside Starsky but didn’t wake him. Instead he went to his dresser, pulled out socks and a t-shirt, pulling both on.

“What’s got your ass all twisted in a knot?”

He turned to see Starsky now sitting up in the bed, sipping the coffee. “Nothing.” He turned and walked out.

“Motherfucker.” Starsky swore and followed him down the hall where the Fed stopped to dig through a small bowl for his keys. Starsky pushed past him and blocked the front door with his body.

Flipping his key ring around his finger and shoving his wallet in the front pocket of his sweatpants, G-man faced him, drawing himself to full height, which was a few inches taller than Starsky. “Move.”

“No.”

“You think I can’t make you move?”

“I think you can try.”

“Don’t make me fight you, man.”

“Then don’t try to run out on your problems and we won’t have to throw down.” Starsky said firmly.

“I’m not running out on my problems. I just need some air.”

“Bullshit. Something happened and you’re trying to run instead of face it like a man.”

“Fuck you.” Carlson seethed.

“If you think that would help.” 

“If I..you’re infuriating!”

“Yup.”

“I don’t want to fuck you.” He spat.

“I know you don’t. You want to fuck him. But walking out this door isn’t going to change that.”

“And staying helps how exactly? Huh? You suddenly gonna let me have him whenever I want? Like he’s a fucking lawn mower we borrow back and forth? I love him but he’s not mine!”

“He’s not mine either, HP. He’s not a prize to be won or fought over and the sooner you get that through your fat head the easier your life is going to be!”

“Or either one of you could actually talk to me instead of about me.” Hutch said heatedly from the behind them.

“Fuck.” Carlson said as he leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. 

Starsky joined him on the floor, his back still to the door, looking up at Hutch with soft eyes that said, _I don’t know that this is helping him, babe._

“This is all because I knew how you like your coffee?” Hutch asked, sitting down cross-legged on the floor next to G-man.

“No. And yes. I don’t know.”

Taking his hand, Hutch said, “I know how you like your coffee because you matter enough to me to pay attention to it.”

“And because he has a freakish eye for detail.” Starsky offered, which led to Hutch giving him a quick glare.

“My point is, what makes relationships meaningful is that process of discovery. Even if Starsky said to us both right now that we could have as much sex together as we wanted, that doesn’t mean we would. You act like the only one holding this back is him. It’s not. Never has been. I’ve held a line. And so have you. Yes, you made it clear you wanted us to cross that line and yesterday, for our own survival, we had to. And we’re all a little bit lost as to where to redraw it now, so I understand why this is frustrating. But why is it fair that you get to decide what happens without discussing it with us?”

“I’m not deciding. I’m accepting.”

“OK. But you’re accepting parameters you alone have decided on and then are blaming us for.” Starsky offered. 

“I’m not blaming you! What else is there?” Carlson banged his head against the wall in frustration.

“Hutch.” Starsk said quietly.

“Not yet.” His partner answered as he shifted to his knees and then straddled the fed resting on his ass on Carlson’s thighs.

“Not yet what?” Carlson asked confused. 

“Starsky is concerned that we are causing you too much pain right now. I don’t. I think we haven’t broken through yet.” He looked over at his partner, who gave a slight nod. _Wherever this goes, I’m with you._

Hutch leaned in and kissed the Fed, soft and exploratory at first, and then with increasing strength and fervor. He felt the agent’s erection blossom but didn’t grind against him, just kept kissing, tongues stroking one another, teasing, tasting until he felt his partner’s hand on the back of his head. Breaking the kiss, he turned and saw that Starsk already had his fingers in the elastic of his pajamas pants. With practiced ease, he opened his mouth as his partner fed him the thick cock as he began to thrust his pelvis along Carlson’s hard on. 

“Oh fuck.” The agent moaned as he grabbed Hutch’s hips and thrust up against him, pupils blown wide in arousal at watching Hutch give head right in front of his face. He shoved down the twinges of shame he felt at all of this and let himself ride the waves of heat, longing, and pure want. Suddenly nothing mattered in the world other than three of them, here in this moment and he gave himself fully over to it. He reached into the front of Hutch’s flannel and began stroking as he shifted and pulled at his own sweats until both cocks were free and he could fist them together. He chanced a look at Starsky, not sure if he was seeking approval exactly, but found the detective fully engrossed in watching his cock slide in and out of wet, pink lips. 

Using his thumb, G-man smeared precum across both heads, circling the sensitive flesh, causing Hutch to groan deep in his throat even as Starsky’s cock kept thrusting in and out of his mouth. 

“He likes that.” Starsky said huskily.

“I can tell,” he answered, increasing the pressure in his grip as he continued to swipe and circle them both with his thumb, making Hutch moan more.

“God, that’s good, babe. Your moans are vibrating your whole mouth against me. Keep going, Fed. Fuck.” Starsky was thrusting harder now, right on the edge as Hutch’s sounds of pleasure got louder with every stroke. Carlson heard the faintest high-pitched noise among the guttural moan as Starsky came hard and Hutch swallowed and pulsed his tongue against the thick shaft in his mouth. 

The Fed was transfixed watching them, remembering having his own cock in that warmth just 24 hours ago. He saw Starsky pull out and pull his pajama pants back up before kneeling right behind Hutch. “C’mon babe, let’s bring you both to la-la land.” He whispered against his partner’s ear as he slid a hand down Hutch’s ass and gently massaged his tight entrance while the Fed kept stroking them. 

Hutch looked right into green eyes. “Kiss me G-man,” he demanded. As their mouths met, he could see Starsky sucking at the flesh just behind Hutch’s ear. He tasted Starsky on his tongue and groaned as a new thrust of arousal flowed through him, even as his brain flashed _Forbidden-Shame-Betrayal_ across his eyes. The thoughts almost made him stop until another thought replaced it. _The only thing stopping this is you. Do you want to stop?_ “Fuck no,” he replied to himself.

He deepened the kiss and felt another hand cover his, increasing the pressure and speed against both cocks. He wasn’t sure if it was Hutch’s hand or Starsky’s but decided he didn’t care as his climax ripped through him. The unknown hand kept stroking as it grew wet and slippery. He felt Hutch’s moan against his lips and knew he’d now come as well. 

After several moments, Starsky was the first to stand and he pulled Hutch up. They both offered a hand out and Carlson stood too. “That was...what do we...”

“Don’t over think it, Fed. That’s the whole point. I’m starving.” 

“The eggs and bacon are staying warm in the oven.” 

“Perfect. You got OJ?”

“Huh?”

Hutch laughed. “You’re cute when you’re befuddled.”

“That ain’t befuddlement. Pretty sure you just rocked his world, Blondie.” Starsky called back as he walked towards he kitchen. 

“G-man? You OK?” Hutch asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

 _Don’t overthink it._ Starsky’s words echoed in his head. “Yeah, Ken-doll. I’m good. Thank-you.”

“For what?”

“For not giving up on me.”

“Never.” Hutch kissed him lightly and wove their fingers together. 

“I’m making toast” Starsky hollered from the kitchen.

“No you are not! You burn it!”

He smiled as Hutch pulled them both towards the kitchen and filed “Starsky burns toast” and that faint squeak away in his brain of the many things he was learning today. _I seen so many things I ain’t never seen before._ He wasn’t sure why that lyric flashed in his head but he finally felt the freedom he’d been chasing his whole life. 

Acceptance. Friendship. _Love._

**Author's Note:**

> After part 3, a friend asked me to find a way for Hutch and Hotpants to have sex but in a way that didn’t have Hutch cheating on Starsky. This story was abandoned for close to a decade because no matter how I tried, in the end, Hotpants was left devastated and alone. When I started this series, going poly was never my intention for them. I’m still not sure how I feel about it, honestly. But I care too much about Hotpants as a character to give him anything less.
> 
> So if you don’t like the ending, I get it. I just love Hotpants too much to give a fuck.


End file.
